


When Your Angel Sings... (Turn Away, for His Beauty is Blinding)

by fakescorpion (SiZodiac)



Series: A Siren of the Angelic Breed [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelcest, Cognitive Dissonance, Dubious Consent, Lima Syndrome, Moral Ambiguity, Other, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Stockholm Syndrome, Trueform, Vessel Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiZodiac/pseuds/fakescorpion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy's thoughts on human/celestial relationships during angel intercourse. Eerie atmosphere and unintentional background destruction, psychological issues, moral dissonance, with gratuitous religious themes (so not for the easily offended).<br/>Porn with plot, or, as much plot as can be fitted into pages of angel porn. And a reminder that angels are living weapons first and foremost, even in bed. [Dominant!Castiel/Submissive!Jimmy]</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Your Angel Sings... (Turn Away, for His Beauty is Blinding)

**Author's Note:**

> Cognitive Dissonance: the experience of simultaneously holding conflicting ideas, values, emotional reactions etc.  
> Stockholm Syndrome: the phenomenon in which kidnapped victims developed affection or sexual attraction for a captor.  
> Lima Syndrome: the phenomenon in which abductors developed sympathy for the captives, basically the reverse of the above.

  

 

 

 

_Their song, though irresistibly sweet, was no less sad than sweet, and lapped both body and soul in a fatal lethargy.  
The forerunner of death and corruption._

\-- Walter Copland Perry

 

They were slammed horizontally on top the home bar counter. The cracking of solid stone could be heard in the dead silence of midnight and he felt fissures extended out like spiderwebs under his fingertips. The marble top felt cold on contact, separated from his skin by only thin layers of shirt fabric and coat. The lamplights in the room corners were pale yellow, basking everything in an eerie shine. The many wineglasses hung overhead reflecting in the light and were twinkling like stars.

He was perceiving the surroundings through a metaphorical smokescreen, the angelic energy housed within slacking his senses; the quietness was artificially heavy and oppressing. But he was grateful for the pain shooting sharply across his back was dulled.

Nevertheless, Jimmy was surprised to find himself with lucid thoughts.

A finger thread through his hair gently, and his head turned on its own accord. A man he did not recognize leaned against the counter, impossibly close to his person, staring at him almost in reverence.

“You were bestowed a very attractive vessel,” the man said, mirth dancing behind an accented tongue. He was an angel, no doubt.

A hand is slightly raised, and Jimmy flinched at the movement. (But he could not. His body was not his.) And the angel ran a finger down his cheek and gently strokes his throbbing jugular.

Jimmy was frightened but then Castiel was speaking in the back of his mind, his true voice screeching out like glass scratching the highest possible pitch of violin strings. A cacophony of sounds that was at once horrible and entrancing, dancing across five ( _thousand_ ) different frequencies. Jimmy thought his ears should bleed.

With the first voice, Castiel spoke formal, ‘Balthazar wishes to pleasure us.’  
The suggestion sent heat racing through Jimmy’s blood.

With the second voice, Castiel spoke in pictures and sensations and memories.  
Jimmy was brought back to the time when Castiel had visited him in dreams with some regularity. Of those feather-light caresses that were cold to the touch but left burning passion in their wake; of those whispered promises that sang of sin and desire; and of those nights that left him whimpering, hard and aching and wet, teetering on edge but never complete.

And with the third voice ( _and forth, and fifth…_ ), Castiel was again wooing him with his songs. _Be mine. Be mine. Be mine._

It was like having the radio and the television on at the same time, while an orchestra performed in the background. Jimmy was reminded once more of how limited humans were when compared to angels, with only one voice that could only make one sound at a time.

He tried to think of his wife Amelia, and the taste of her lips against his. Not again. Jimmy thought, refusing to submit to the horrifying beauty of the celestial being and his ( _its_ ) poisonous words. But Jimmy’s mind came up blank, his memory under secure lock and key.

‘Castiel,’ Jimmy protested weakly in his mind, ‘Why don’t you put me away?’

‘Because,’ Castiel answered slowly (he was still singing _Jimmy, Jimmy, my beautiful holy Sword_ ), ‘I’ll be too distracted to do so in a moment’s time.’

Another innocently delivered implication, and Jimmy felt his resolve already quickly crumbling under barely any strain. Like so many times before.

Patiently and waiting, Balthazar was looking at them with amusement winkling in his eyes. He moved closer, whispering a single word into their ear, “ _James_ ,” he crooned. Jimmy felt his breath hitches, heartbeat going twice as fast as its usual pace. (But it did not. His body was not his.) His name falling off another angel’s lips, it was like seduction.

 _Cas-ti-el._ An Enochian shriek chimed lowly under the vessel’s given name, a wineglass overhead cracked, and the call somehow sounded even more alluring to Jimmy’s ears. And Castiel was snaking a hand to grip Balthazar’s nape, angling their faces so they were now properly eye to eye.

That was when Jimmy saw him.

Behind the other angel’s confident smirk, there was another man. The same as Jimmy caged inside the confinement of his own skin and mind, his history bleeding out of his eyes in invisible tears, a history of willing misery and torture that resulted from falling for a creature that destroyed him through a series of ecstatic suffering.

He was a pale Arabian man.

An ordinary scholar from so long ago, a man with two daughters and a lovely wife.

An ordinary scholar who was visited by a star one night. A star so achingly beautiful he fell in trance with its splendor and left home to follow its enticing melody through prairies and deserts. With nothing but an intoxicating promise in the caressing wind and a small jar of myrrh in hand, he crossed countries and vast lands, finally arriving in Bethlehem to deliver a gift.

And with his consent, the man let the beautiful creature slip a noose around his neck, chaining him to its side for the next two thousand years.

They were so close together now, with Balthazar bending over Castiel, their lips were less than an inch apart. Castiel whispered in Arabic, a name long lost and gone. “Malik,” he says softly, like coaxing a fragile animal. ( _King._ It was understood.)

Then Jimmy felt their throat constrict and vibrate, an otherworldly ring escaped into the air. _Bal-tha-zar._ Castiel echoed, the Enochian sounding seductive and absolutely debauched.

Another wineglass cracked, threatening to shatter.

The small gap between the two angels closed, with Balthazar’s elbows on either sides holding his younger brethren down almost desperately onto the broken marble counter, and Castiel knotted their slim fingers through the older angel’s blond hair in return. The kiss was at once completely different from any traded between humans, all tongue and teeth and absolutely nobody was coming up for air.

Jimmy was a gasping, moaning wreck within the first twenty seconds. (But he was not. His body was not his.) But the kiss lasted another five solid minutes longer, a younger seraph and an older angel fighting for dominance, with neither willing to relent. The chapped lips that pressed against theirs left a burn in the aftertaste, igniting a flame within each others Grace.

In a daze, Jimmy thought of the first time Castiel pressed his cold burning lips against his. It was with commanding possession and borderline obsession, and Jimmy had almost submitted with a whimpered _Oh God_ and _Yes, Castiel, please please!_ falling from his tongue.

It was a dream, but his lips were red and raw the next morning. And the taste of lust and blasphemy lingered for a week.

 

Balthazar pulled back first, the signature smirk still on his face. “Since when did you get so assertive, Cassie,” he asked playfully, tugging off the backwards tie around the younger celestial’s neck. His angelic strength accidently ripped loose two buttons in the process.

“Around the time I first rebelled, perhaps?” Castiel almost purred, pink tongue darting out to lick the beads of blood from his split lips, “Just that as a seraph, I now have the ability to back my attitude.”

Balthazar’s eyes softened considerably easing out much tension in his shoulders, and Castiel likewise untangled his fingers and made to soothe the older man’s hair more gently. They kissed again, this time slower and so natural, sighing against each other’s mouths and drinking in the taste of flesh and lips and tongues.

A short separation for air. And they kissed again. And again. And again.

With their eyes shut and arms wrapped around in an affectionate embrace, Jimmy found himself kissing Malik in a drug-like induced high. ( _Love him, Jimmy. Love him for me. Love him, love him, love him._ Castiel’s song never once stopped, effectively numbing his thoughts like the sweetest of narcotic.)

Balthazar took his time to undo the front of Castiel’s shirt and slacks, running a hand down his little brother’s bare chest and feeling the lean muscles stretching taut and tense. The angelic touch easily eliciting human pleasures of the flesh, and Castiel trembled, arching his back into his older brother’s agonizingly teasing fingers.

“Hmm… sensitive vessel?” Balthazar chuckled, pulling back from another heartedly kiss to make time removing the younger angel’s shoes and socks, before going back to drawing Enochian symbols onto the exposed pale chest.

Castiel blinked, blue glassy eyes peeked through his quivering lashes. “Yes,” he says, but despite his leaping pulse and heat, the seraph kept his tone calm and neutral. It was driving Jimmy insane because he was trapped within their body, already hard and wanting, basically shaking with need and begging to be touched.

Balthazar did notice the bulge down south, too, but he was intentionally ignoring it in favor of teasing and running barely-there touches up and down their frustratingly clothed thighs, dragging maddening inaudible moans from Jimmy. ‘Why… weren’t you a-ahh-ffected?’ the human complained, having difficulty stringing his sentences together even in his own head.

‘I am,’ Castiel answered, the collected reply sending another shiver down the length of Jimmy’s phantom body. ‘But as we angels have greater pain endurances, we also have higher pleasure thresholds.’

Balthazar quirked in amusement. “You’re a really fun one to read, Jimmy.”

Jimmy could almost feel their body flush from his embarrassment. (But it did not. His body was not his.) Oh my God. He thought. _He could read my mind._ And Jimmy felt their shared lips twitched in a small secretive smile.

“I could see that Malik is rather frustrated as well,” Castiel stated, clearly amused. So Balthazar answered with a laugh, tearing at the younger angel’s slacks and underwear, reducing them to tatters in a haste to get them off.

“Be patient, baby brother,” Balthazar said, trailing his fingers down the inside of the seraph’s slender thigh then up, ghosting lightly through the mass of pubic hairs at the base of the flushed erection. But not quite yet touching.

Throat constricting to oppress a soft whimper, Jimmy wanted to squirm, arch his back, rub himself, do anything to release the aching arousal. But despite the request, Castiel only spread their legs wider in silent invitation, propping himself onto his elbows, and eyes still too damn focused under their fluttering lashes.

The two angels made eye contact for half an instant, then Balthazar moved to hold the smaller celestial’s waist with a steady hand and started to stroke the underside of their eager shaft with another. Castiel closed their eyes and hung back his head in pleasure as Jimmy started moaning noiselessly in their linked thoughts, knees bending slightly and curling his toes as their tip began to moist.

On a more mischievous impulse, Balthazar flicked a thumb over their hot wet slit, spreading the small bead of leaking pre-cum and making their hips jerk involuntarily at the touch. The sensation sent an unexpected thrill through the youngest seraph of the Heavenly Host, and Castiel bit down on his bottom lip hard-- hard enough to draw blood-- to clamp down the first moan that threatened to break free, all while slamming a fist onto the counter top.

Sudden explosions blast from every lit corners of the entire building, light bulbs from lamps and hidden wirings burst in flares of sparks before altogether dying, throwing shrapnel flying through the air and shrouding everything in darkness. A whole side of the home bar crumbled under Castiel’s fist.

Balthazar laughed, “Calm down, Cassie. At this rate, you’ll demolish my house before we’re done.”

“My apologies,” Castiel breathed, pulse still racing and heart hammering in his chest. “You know I’ve never experienced… that… before.” Jimmy groaned silently in the back of their minds, trying and failing to match his gasps to the angel’s controlled inhale and exhale of their lungs. He’d forgotten that Cas was still technically a virgin, and he wondered for a dazed second why it came as a shock that angel virgins could still outlast the most hardened of human man.

In the dark, Jimmy noticed the faint glow of Balthazar’s blown out pupils, the gray eyes so full of energy fixed greedily on them. Castiel sat up, hooking a bare leg across his brother’s waist and back, and leaned forward licking Balthazar’s bottom lip and sucking gently on his tongue.

Balthazar responded likewise, a hand trail upwards under Castiel’s open shirt, holding the small of his back and pressed them as close together, the heated flesh between the smaller angel’s legs still pulsed with need in his other palm and he went on to knead the length and tip.

Castiel’s made a soft obscene noise in the back of his throat, eyes closing. Jimmy was a bit surprised to find the angel more focused on the five fingers dancing expertly across their back, rather than the continued friction between their thighs.

‘He is touching my wings, Jimmy,’ Castiel’s humming vibrated in his mind, then just like that, Jimmy felt the ghost of soft feathers brushing gently against his sides, his back, between his legs, and along the full length of his erection. The contact was so sudden, so hot and needy, Jimmy cried out in so much lust and passion. (But he did not. His body was not his.) White spark flitted behind his closed lid.

‘Are you… touching… yourself?’ Jimmy asked, hoarse and barely coherent.

‘No,’ Castiel replied, a note of amusement in his tone, ‘I am touching _you_.’ And he opened their eyes, allowing Jimmy to really see.

Balthazar was ravishing their previously unblemished neck, but now left with angry marks down their neckline. His majestic pair of wings, half transparent of brilliant white lined with hints of gold and gray, was tucked to his sides.

But it was Castiel’s wings that took Jimmy’s breath away. A wingspread that stretched across and beyond the expand of the room, twice the size of the other angel’s, it was the purist limpid white with sparks of magnificent blacks and blues. The second pair-- slightly smaller-- was wrapped around their torso, slowly pleasuring every square inch of their body.

Jimmy was a trembling mess, with Balthazar’s flexible fingers cupping and squeezing his balls, and Castiel’s delicate feathers fondling the length of his engorged arousal and his reddened tip. He was wet and straining and aching, and he was leaking beads of milky fluid and so _so close_.

‘Let it go.’

Castiel whispered in his ears as more feathers fell onto Jimmy’s face, his smallest pair of wings, barely reaching the extent of an arm, stretched from the rear of their skull and pulled a translucent inky veil over his sight.

‘Let it go, Jimmy.’

( _Let it go. Let it go. Let it go._ )

And Jimmy came. (Again.) (And again.) (And again.)

 

The first time Castiel communicated with him through a dream, Jimmy found himself waking up hard in the early morning twilight. But it wasn’t anything unusual, and a small nudge and a sly look to his roused wife solved the problem quickly.

The second time Castiel communicated with him through a dream, Jimmy had a much more vivid memory of the event, and again waking up hard and already damp in the early morning twilight. It still wasn’t anything too unusual… until he had to bit his tongue as to not utter the wrong name while buried into his wife’s soft curves.

The third time Castiel communicated with him through a dream, Jimmy vaguly remembered a being that sent tingling anticipation down his body and the echo of a song that left his knees shaking and weak. He woke up hard and damp and he forced himself into a freezing shower at two in the middle of the night, and he wondered what was wrong with him when the thought of angels got him all hot and bothered.

Some time between the angel’s third and forth nighttime visitations, Jimmy came to the abrupt realization that Castiel was, in fact, not a figment of his best wet fantasy.

So when the forth time Castiel came to him, and again left him hard and needy and wanting. Jimmy stayed wide awake for the rest of the night, waiting for his arousal to ebb. Never had he felt so very dirty.

Castiel was so horrifyingly beautiful and pure that the mere thought of corruption was enough to cause Jimmy’s pulse to pick up speed and his penis to twitch in excitement. He squashed the idea down every time it surfaced. But the thought was always there, lurking at the back of his mind.

A few days after the fifth time Castiel came to him, Jimmy went to the confession. It was when his wife had just begun to sense something was wrong with him but before she had him tagged as insane. At that time he really believed something _must_ be seriously wrong with him, and Jimmy practically blurt out to the priest that he wanted to bed an angel.

He remembered thinking the tiny confession booth oppressing, and how he felt the air grew warm within the confining chamber when he started spilling out his adoration for Castiel. How he yearned for a touch, a taste, with the euphoric song churring in his ears.

Truthfully, the priest likely thought him as attempting to have an affair or was pining after the youthful flesh of teenage boys. But at that moment Jimmy couldn’t care less, for his conditions had worsened during the past weeks because he had been denying himself release from this sick twisted fantasy. Now, it was at a point of merely talking about it was enough to draw out a reaction from his betraying body, and Jimmy could felt a bulge growing between his legs.

( _I need you. I need you. I need you._ )

He fled from the church with a full blown boner that day and was extremely grateful his trench coat was three sizes too large that it could somewhat hide his problem from the public eye, and it wasn’t much of a surprise the moment Jimmy locked himself indoors, his resolve fell apart completely. And he jerked off with Castiel’s name on his lips in reverence, imagining himself opening his legs like a slut and shamelessly offering up his body when asked.

The release was pure ecstasy, leaving his skin in fervor. Jimmy could remember still hearing echos of Castiel’s song in the darkest corner of his mind…

( _I need you. I need you. I need you._ )

…and he felt himself growing hard again.

 

Jimmy discovered another perk of angels, as they could apparently get back up almost immediately after flagging. In the spiritual sense, Jimmy felt the beginning of fatigue washing over him. (But he could not. His body was not his). Castiel, however, was far from being finished.

Balthazar skillfully ran his fingers along their slick hardened length to properly coat himself in substitute lubricant, then a hand move to hold his brother ever closer while the other sink below his waistband to tend to his own neglected needs, stroking his hard cock and running a thumb across the moistening head. They shared another leisure kiss before the young seraph lay back almost languidly under the older angel’s guidance, stretching his lean flexible body across the half-destroyed counter and obediently spreading his legs wide.

Balthazar planted bites and kisses along the inside of his little brother’s thigh, Jimmy already writhing in anticipation while Castiel held their body impossibly still. The older angel breathed against their crotch, mouth half an inch from the base of their erection, the cold air ghost around their flushed cock drawing out an overwhelmingly delicious sensation. Balthazar tugged at himself while he teased some more, before eventually closing the last half inch and kissed heated flesh.

Castiel arched their back and finally-- finally-- moaned. A ( _thousand_ ) obscene noises clawed from the depth of his throat, and the twinkling icicle-like wineglasses hung overhead shattered in the cacophonous octet of frequencies and fell around them like a hailstorm.

“Spread your wings, Cassie,” Balthazar murmured softly, trailing slow kisses from the base to his brother’s dripping tip, sending shivers of delight though the young seraph’s body.

The ( _thousand_ ) overlapping whine that Castiel was making smashed the wine collection lined in the cupboards, raining them in various colored glass and aromatic alcohols. The porcelain cups and plates were the next to go, when Balthazar pushed a lubricated finger into his rear, followed by the ceramic decorations and fixtures.

 _Bal-tha-zar._ The Enochian bounced in Jimmy’s head, ringing like a hundred church bells. _Bal-tha-zar. Bal-tha-zar. Bal-tha-zar._

Balthazar smirked, his angelic flare of Grace flickered behind his white teeth and his icy blue-gray eyes glowed even brighter. “Spread your wings, baby brother,” he repeated, adding in another finger before taking in them whole. And Jimmy realized as he gasp and arch and squirm as warm lips moved up and down his aching shaft and experienced tongue flicking across his slit, that despite the licentious position Castiel put them in, the angel was still wrapping his second pair of wings tightly around them, hiding his true celestial-self from his older brother’s starving eyes.

Castiel complied when Balthazar buried the third finger deep inside them, scissoring and hitting their most sensitive spot again and again. One wing from his second pair unfurled, curling atop and around the older angel’s head and neck, Castiel pressed his brother closer so that his other wing could wrapped around the other man’s back.

Balthazar’s composed breathing faltered for the first time when the blue-black lining feathers ran through his wings. The seraph’s ethereal plumes patiently coaxed out a shudder from him and Balthazar arched his back into the touch, wings fluttering twice involuntarily, summoning short gusts of wind and sending half the furniture tumbling.

Castiel almost laughed.

Balthazar’s droning reply came from a few words of shrieking Enochian, his vessel’s vocal being unavailable with the seraph’s full length buried in his throat. _Do-not get co-cky, bro-th-er darl-ling._ He said, causing windows and mirrors in the house to shatter from the power of the otherworldly language.

Castiel dug his nails into the marble countertop, leaving engraves on the smooth stone surface, as he straightened himself and tried hard to keep from falling apart with intense sensations provided on his behind and his front from an older brother’s nimble fingers and warm tongue. The two celestial beings’ eyes met. Jimmy saw tendrils of light creeping up the sides of Balthazar’s neck and face like webs, and the angel’s pupils were illuminating even brighter than before.

“Brother,” Castiel whispered, body leaning forward to first run lithe fingers through his brother’s coruscating halo and eliciting flashing sparks before moving them through the strands of blond hair, making Balthazar hum in satisfied delight. That was when Jimmy noticed similar glowy white vines were also throbbing in the dark on the back of their hands. “Brother,” Castiel whispered again and they cordially kissed the older angel’s temple, skimming a hand down his back to pleasure the base of the golden-gray lined wingspread.

Balthazar crooned, removing his fingers and earned an unhappy whine from Cas and Jimmy both, but then he used his freed hands to push their legs farther apart, lapping at their length and sucking lewdly just below their flushed sensitive tip, and it was all too much. They snapped their hips, Castiel moaned as their breath grew progressively erratic. Jimmy was too distracted to take note of the destruction that decadent sound was leaving behind.

They were _this close_ to orgasm, with Castiel basically clawing into the stone counter again with his nails, when the seraph, almost biting through their tongue, held them back right at the edge and denied them both through sheer force of will.

( _Not yet._ )

And time-- fucking-- stopped.

( _Not yet, Jimmy. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet._ )

The ticking of a bracket clock in the conjoined room quieted, time freezing in place. A knife stand was knocked over when Jimmy wasn’t looking, and it was now suspended in mid-fall.

“That’s cheating, Cassie,” Balthazar said, teasing the side of their quivering flesh. The angel was not affected by the standstill of time, continued to drag his teeth along the erected manhood of his younger brother.

This was even more of a torture than that one time in college when Jimmy was still adventurous enough to try on a cock ring and let tiny brass teeth bit into his flesh. He couldn’t come when _time itself_ was at a pause but Castiel seemed to wish to delay it for as long, and the feeling of teetering on the brink was pure agony. ‘Caaas, please please…’ Jimmy whimpered, begging in his mind. ‘L-let us c-come.’

Their slit was already moistened with pre-cum and lust, and Balthazar was tonguing their balls and drawing circles on the eager tip of their twitching cock. Jimmy moaned pathetically, and for once, he and the angel were of the same mind. “Bal-Balthazar!” Castiel gasped out, bucking their hips almost helplessly. “I-I’m going t-to burn. You have t-to do it, with m-me.”

“I know,” Balthazar answered with a soft smile, crawling onto the counter and placing a hand onto Castiel’s chest to hold him down. Their legs tangled and Balthazar moved one of his hands downwards to rub their wanton lengths together, vigorously running his knuckles along their sides for more friction and adding just enough sweet pressure to their dripping tips.

The knife stand connected with the ground with many an echoing steely clash.

Currents of electricity flickered as intense passion pooled out between them, the two angels let out muffled Enochian cries, coming almost in unison as they rode their orgasms, muscles convulsing in pleasure and for a second spiking their vessels’ body heat to impossible temperatures. This sudden jump of a thousand degrees instantly reduced most of their attires to cinders… and both angels collapsed onto the ground in a tangle when the stone counter gave out under them, the tattering remains of singed clothes barely clinging onto their form.

It took Jimmy a few more extra seconds to recover from the orgasm high, spasms of pleasure still dancing up and down his frame, to realize that the counter had crumbled because the _marble stone_ had fucking _melted_ under Castiel’s touch. The twin faucets over the kitchen sink were ripped out sometime when they went down and now were pumping water into the air like fountains, but the liquid droplets were vaporized into steam before they could even made contact with the two celestial creatures’ burning skin.

Castiel and Balthazar assessed each other from where they fell, wings half expanded and tense. Angels did not get exhausted, ever. And Jimmy only got half a millisecond to brace himself before the angels flapped their flight wings simultaneously, and then Castiel was slamming Balthazar onto the flipped-over couch on the other side of the huge room, which caught fire almost instantly. Castiel tore at his brother’s neck with tongue and teeth.

Castiel had been the captain, so he would not let a subordinate pin him down without a fight. Balthazar on the other hand was older, and letting a kid brother dominate him would be the last thing on his mind.

Another rather violent gust of indoors wind, they both moved again, the two comets chasing each other through the darkness of this tiny human building. Then Balthazar got an upper hand, pushing Castiel up against a random wall and tightly securing one of his arms behind his back. But the moment the young seraph’s naked chest made contact, the whitewashed wooden panel charred and smoked. When angels burnt heated in their passionate frenzy dance, they literally burnt, demolishing everything in their paths. The wall only held on for a pathetically short amount of time before turning into a mess of scorched splinters, causing them both to crash through into the next room at the sudden lost of support and landing in a wreckage of blackened wood and glass remains and burnt through carpet.

Balthazar was still holding his brother down after they went through the wall and he trailed a tongue down the young seraph’s spine, causing Castiel to shiver as he pushed himself into a kneeling position on the slowly red-hot ceramic tiles, shards of mirror leaving ephemeral cuts on his palms and knees.

Wrapping an arm around Castiel’s slim waist, Balthazar nestled against the younger angel’s back and nipped at his ear. “You want to let our boys join in?” he asked as he slowly stroked himself back to hardness, nudging at the broken mirror pieces with his bare toes.

“That’s perverse.”

“I prefer the word ‘kinky’,” Balthazar said, moving on to nibble the pretty curve of his brother’s neck. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Castiel relented, feeling for a larger shard of looking glass in the pitch darkness and held it against the tiled concrete wall with the flat of his palm. The remaining pieces scattered about the room followed on their own accord, forming a sizeable mirror less than two feet away, and Jimmy saw two sets of blazing white eyes reflecting back in the dark.

Jimmy’s human eyes were next to blind, but Castiel’s ( _a hundred_ ) visions were able to simultaneously detect everything within the natural and supernatural spectra. He mentally shifted his smallest set of wings, not to completely remove the blindfold he had always placed over their eyes, as was proper, but he allowed Jimmy to see on more than the one pitifully narrow range of the visible light spectrum on the Earthly plane. Then suddenly everything were basked in an unnatural pale shine, yet at once still in the total inky darkness as before. And Jimmy saw his whole body glowed in varying degrees of blue and gray, with his sternum and the base of his neck a blinding turquoise sapphire.

He was looking at Castiel’s heat signature, Jimmy somehow knew. With the angel’s two Grace centers pulsing rhythmically, sending cirrus of light and warmth to the rest of their body. And overhead, as he was vaguely aware of, was the hottest part of Cas’ being: the halo that radiated the same glory of a solar eclipse, with the deadly beauty of diamond flares dancing around its ring… and even more lethal to look at directly.

Angels co-existed in many dimensions, with their wings and halos and Grace residing in different planes. Quite understandably Jimmy felt like he was starting to experience major sensory overload since Castiel didn’t withdraw his ability for detecting angelic wings during this time, and his brain was trying to process the stimulations coming from a supernatural heat vision and a multi-wavelengths ethereal sight and his own human eyes all at once.

Dizzyingly, Jimmy blinked, and then yelped in shock when his reflection reacted as he did. But only the reflection. (His body was not his.)

“Hello, Jimmy darling,” Balthazar said, brushing soft kisses onto his brother’s temple as he looked up to address the younger angel’s human vessel through the mirror. He pressed their bodies even closer as he placed a knee between Castiel’s legs.

Jimmy visibly flinched when something long and erected prodded his behind. At the same time Malik also recoiled, loosening his hold around Jimmy’s waist and was obviously incredibly flustered at feeling himself so inappropriately touching another man.

But their bodies were not theirs. They could not move.

And with the two angels still holding each other close, wings entangled, Jimmy could clearly feel Balthazar’s bare chest pressing intimately against his back as the angel grabbed hold of his left wrist, heated breaths tickling his nape, and the lubricated head of an engorged member brushing almost teasingly at his rim.

Jimmy squirmed, but he couldn’t run. His reflection in the mirror wore an expression of pure panic, eyes and chest and neck glowing, an image of a full-body human skin distinctly housing something unmistakably inhuman underneath. Jimmy shifted his gaze uncomfortably; the eldritch humanoid that was himself had definitely dipped straight into uncanny valley. 

 

 

 

 

“That’s not true,” Castiel spoke softly, right hand still kept in place to hold the mirror as he leaned close. “You’re very beautiful, Jimmy, you’ll always be very beautiful,” he said ( _Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful._ ), and Jimmy couldn’t understand how Castiel always managed to sound so sincere, when the angel himself was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Then Jimmy’s mind short circuited, because _Castiel_ was almost _kissing him_ , with barely half an inch of glass separating their lips and tongue. The closest they could get on the physical realm and it wasn’t fair because somehow Castiel still tasted like ambrosia and desire, and it was going straight southward. Jimmy whimpered, rutting up against the mirror trying to reach across the looking glass for the angel he had claimed for himself; and when he felt something warm and hard pushed deep into him, his hips involuntarily bucked and jerked, seeking for more.

“Ca-Cas!” Jimmy gasped, his whole body trembled with unrepentant lust when the penetrating object pulled away and pushed back in a little farther. His previously limp cock twitched and jumped a little higher as each thrust brush his prostate, and at this moment he didn’t even care what was pushing so persistently inside him and making him keen and groan.

It was embarrassing to look at his naked-self in the mirror, on his knees with his legs spread indecently wide apart, a hand braced against the wall for support and another being secured behind his back, and his dick slowly going hard and swelling for touch. For Jimmy, it was even more embarrassing, knowing there was three other beings watching the same thing. Then Castiel had to slip him another vision, allowing him to witness how his whole body’s nature heat went up and up in infrared, turning him on even more.

( _You’re beautiful, Jimmy. So beautiful. So beautiful. So beautiful._ )

“Oh God, Ca-aas,” Jimmy moaned wantonly, struggling against the hand holding him back weakly as he bucked his hips, his now fully erected cock jerked helplessly in the air aching for friction, “T-touch me, p-pleeaaase!”

“Nope,” someone whispered, kissing his neck.

And somewhere at a back corner of his mind, Jimmy wondered was he being raped by Castiel (for the fiftieth time). But then he realized it was hardly the worst offend he had to endure from the angel, still listing it below the five hundred sustained mortal wounds and ultimately two deaths, and that in turn was still listed below the mass murdering of angels and humans alike.

Then Jimmy started to think if textbook Stockholm syndrome was a requirement for angels’ human vessels, and suddenly he wanted to feel awful. (But instead he only felt amazing.)

(And because Castiel was still singing at him in a jumble of ear-splitting frequencies, and that was more potent than any aphrodisiac he knew of. Jimmy couldn’t really stop his jabbering of _God, please don’t stop_ and _fuck, it feels so good_ and _more_ and _harder_ and _Yes, Cas. Yes, yes, yes._ )

From the mirror Jimmy saw his natural body heat flaring differing degrees of bright orange with a fire gathered between his legs that were his craving erection, and he could feel his tip wet and hot with a large bead of glistening pre-cum forming around his slit. For a second Castiel’s supernatural body heat blazed with him, his pulsing Grace centers sending a different tendril thread of pale-bluish light downwards, curling around their flushed twitching shaft to their leaking tip.

“Cas, C-Castiel, Ca-Caaas,” Jimmy arched his back to another deep thrust, feeling the waves of orgasm, and he was coming with nothing but a cock inside him.

But, this wasn’t enough to bring Castiel over the edge yet, and the sounds of flapping wings resonated between the tile walls.

The concrete wall instantly disintegrated at the loss of an angel’s Grace to protect it from the exposure to the intense heat. The mirror shattered. And a drop of superheated cum left a charred mark on the ceramic floor before its smoldering glow dimmed.

(The dissonance between Jimmy and Castiel, and the body they shared, was jarring.)

 

Balthazar held Castiel down two rooms over, his cock still buried deep inside his baby brother, and they were already starting to burn a hole through the polished floor.

“I thought you were going to come,” Balthazar mock-pouted.

“Close, but I wasn’t,” Castiel answered impassively, lightly tugging at both his wrists where he was pinned overhead. “I would stop the time again if I was. You know you could get really injured if our timing was off.”

Balthazar rolled his hips, drawing out a beautifully carnal whine from the younger angel. “Sure, Cassie, but I’m actually pretty okay with dying in bed-- metaphorically of course-- with you.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel argued, but it turned out more of a gasp when Balthazar rolled his hips again, brushing against his sweet spot. “I-I don’t want to permanently w-wound you.”

“I know,” the older angel said, kissing the young seraph on the forehead brotherly. “A shame you were such a prude before you start burning like an inferno.”

Castiel neighed, head turning to the side. He was more sensitive than he already was with the smallest wings blocking out the last of his sights, and Balthazar pounded into him even harder, member sliding and rubbing against tender flesh, and ripping another delightful sound from his throat. “Balthazar,” Castiel moaned, his tip bobbing in the air and dripping wet. “Bal-Balthazar. Balthazar, make love with me.”

Balthazar slowly kissed his younger brother’s eyes and mouth, “That’s my intention.”

“L-let me ride you.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Castiel’s lips quirked almost slyly, a glint of mischief evident under his long fluttering lashes. “You can’t stop me,” the young seraph said, both his hands might have been carefully restrained, but it couldn’t do much to prevent him from snapping his fingers and wrap reality.

Then Balthazar was pinned to the ground, their positions reversed. Castiel’s flight wings arched overhead and cloaked them all in a dome-like domain. “You have better not been thinking of ruling over me,” Castiel said almost alluringly, straddling, as he loosened his grip on his older brother’s wrists and slid his delicate fingers seductively down Balthazar’s chest and abdomen; the other angel’s Grace centers pulsed, sending waves after waves of light crawling over his muscled body, “You might’ve been older, but I have always been your superior.”

“Of course, Cassie,” Balthazar laughed, moving his hands up and down the younger celestial’s thighs. Castiel rocked gently, grinding their hips together, kindling alive a more placating flame within their Grace.

Then, the two angels began to sing.

For his part, Jimmy was completely mesmerized, looking at how the hard edges of that blond angel's smug exterior gradually softened, and he started to maybe understand the first of many reasons why the melodies of heaven were so sensually pleasing for any who had the ability to comprehend.

Angels in their original form were not corporeal, so they mate with their divine songs. Jimmy focused solely on Castiel’s ( _a thousand_ ) voices, as the angel moved their hips and ran lingering fingers along the underside of their hardened shaft. He couldn’t make love to Castiel, and this was the closest he could get. And as their eyes roam over the brawny body underneath them, Jimmy found himself searching for Malik behind the other angel’s self-satisfied smirk.

Another human housing powers that should be too great for them to contain. Another human who ached as profoundly as him? Who, too, loved a creature just beyond their human touch?

Jimmy could almost feel the other man doing the same, seeking him from behind Castiel’s pensive stares. But he could not find any traces of Malik though the feelings of being watched hovered for a few seconds more. Jimmy suspected that it was the same vice versa, his existence a mere ghost that could not be perceived.

 

( _Love. Love. Love._ )

( _Holy. Holy. Holy._ )

The ground rumbled and shook, fissures appearing along the floor panels and rifts split up the walls. Plaster fell like a dusty rain, followed by broken blocks of chipped concrete, but all was ignored.

( _Love. Love. Love._ )

( _Holy. Holy. Holy._ )

The angels’ songs were destructive in their cross-dimension frequencies.  
Castiel and Balthazar intertwined their wings, feathers lacing, moving together in harmony.

( _Love. Love. Love._ )

( _Holy. Holy. Holy._ )

They sang, bodies trembled and jerked, movement getting erratic in their delirium as they brushed and touched and taste. To finally bring each other crashing over the edge. Burning like furnaces.

( _Fa--_ )

( _\--ther._ )

And Jimmy never felt so blissed.

(Somewhere buried deep deep inside his subconscious, the last rational part of Jimmy choked vomit at a realization. That right before his eyes was a pair of angel brothers writhing in a dance of incestuous love, getting off at the thought of their shared Father, with the name of the Lord on their lips.)

 

They were moving again.

When Jimmy came back to himself from the last round of angel-power induced climax, they had returned to the first room. Or whatever was left of its demolished remains. Cas was looking through the debris for their blue tie, naked as a newborn.

Another huge difference.

Humans became sluggish and sometimes awkwardly clumsy after indulging in the sins of lust: groggy, tired, often with a sudden need for the embrace of sleep. Angels were the polar opposite, like recharged energizer bunny, becoming less able to keep still and buzzing with undercurrent electricity, their motions more fluent and graceful: the exact reverse of needing rest.

Castiel was humming, happily, enjoying the human equivalent of afterglow that pulsated vines of white-heat through his being. Hot enough to melt through concrete.

( _Father. Father. Father._ )  
( _I love you. I love you. I love you._ )

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my _God_.

Rationally, Jimmy needed to puke. Because the idea should be totally sick and wrong.  
Irrationally, Jimmy wanted to puke. Because he found that he couldn’t bring himself to think the idea as totally sick and wrong.

No.

Nonono.

No. No. NO.

“You’re distraught,” Castiel observed, finding their tie covered in dust and dirt, and willed it to remain whole and clean when it sizzled upon them picking it up. It was a huge understatement.

‘You wish to-- ’ Jimmy coughed, trying to think of any word that could blunt the impact such blasphemous statement would have on his mentality, ‘… _satisfy_ … your _own Father_ ,…  _sexually_?!’

Castiel looked at him as he called forth a mended mirror, mojo’ing them back into their trench coat and oversized suit before starting to put on their tie. The angel slightly tilted his head to the side, expression a small frown, as if he honestly didn’t understand his vessel’s displeasure. “I love my Father,” he said without much inflection, “All angels do.”

Jimmy knew he could never really argue with that proclaim, so he swallowed his nausea and turned his thoughts away. (It was sick and twisted seeing his maybe-friend as a child wishing to spread for his father; it was sick and twisted on a whole different level knowing every angel more or less wished to spread for _God_.)

Arrrggh.

“It’s loving an absent,” Balthazar spoke from somewhere in the darkness, tone oddly forlorn, as he maneuvered over to the destroyed kitchen and picked out a shattered bottle that managed to salvage a finger of liquor within. He downed the entire content, before moving to look for more.

“Yes, brother,” Castiel agreed, and Jimmy had the distinct impression that his angel was addressing him instead. “We all are.”

Jimmy thought of the choirs of erotic love songs the angels sang from eternity to eternity. Forever worshiping an empty throne.

He didn’t know whether he should feel sympathetic, or more nausea.

 

“Are we so different, you and I?” Castiel then asked, a finger tracing the curve of his lips on the mirror before drawing the outline down his chest. “Wishing for something outside our reach?”

Jimmy couldn’t help it. He shivered.

Aroused… and horrified.

Even while knowing he was suffering from a severe case of Stockholm syndrome, it didn’t help. Jimmy just _could not_ stop falling for Castiel, again and again and again, the angel kept tugging at his heartstrings with his song.

‘I only love you, because I’m apparently fucked up in the head.’

“I know.”

It made him felt even worse, hearing the fact being acknowledged out loud. ‘You’re a snake,’ Jimmy accused weakly, not much surprised to find the resentment in his tone mostly directed at himself, and not the celestial beauty wearing his skin. Castiel contemplated the statement and all of its implications.

“Yes,” the angel admitted, gently. “I am.”

And Castiel covered their eyes and wrapped feathers around them in a loving embrace, before spreading his flight wings fully.

‘I love you, Castiel. I love you. I love you. I love you.’

( _Love you._ )

( _Love you._ )

( _Love you._ )

 

When your angel sings… _can’t_ … turn away, for his beauty is blinding.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>  **Balthazar & Malik**  
> 1) One of the Biblical Magi was named Balthazar, who was said to be an Arabian scholar.  
> 2) Myrrh, one of the three gifts explicitly identified in the Gospel of Matthew, was native to the Arabian Peninsula. Myrrh often symbolized suffering and death, which is also fitting for this story.  
> 3) Malik, an Arabic name, meaning King. The Magi were also called the Three Wise Men or the Three Kings.  
> 4) The Star of Bethlehem, the star that the Biblical Magi ‘followed’ to find Jesus, is more often known as the Christmas Star. In the Eastern Orthodox Church interpretations, the Star is an angel sent by God; incidentally, the Star is sometimes replaced by an angel atop the Christmas tree.
> 
>  **Seraphs**  
>  1) One of the highest or the highest order within the celestial hierarchy, these type of angels all have three pairs of wings. Two of which are not meant to unfurl, as stated in the story: one pair is for covering the eyes, one pair is for covering the body, and only one pair is for flight.  
> 2) Seraph, literally Burning Ones. In some belief, it is said that they are hot enough to burn average angels. Hence the concerns.
> 
>  **Jimmy calling Castiel “a snake”**  
>  1) Castiel’s current status in the Hierarchy of Heaven-- a seraph, is a synonym for “fiery serpent” when used in the Hebrew Bible.  
> 2) The serpent in the Garden of Eden is often portrayed as a manifest of temptation, similar to how angels were portrayed in this story. Also according to some traditions, the serpent especially represents sexual desires, which served as another parallel.  
> 3) In traditional Christianity, there is strong connections between Satan and the Serpent. Satan, also known as Lucifer, is an angel renowned for his beauty within the Supernatural universe.
> 
>  **Melting Points**  
>  1) Marble: around 850℃  
> 2) Glass: 1500- 2700℃  
> 3) Ceramic tiles: at least 1600℃  
> 4) Concrete: disintegrate at around 800℃
> 
>  


End file.
